Not Exactly Enemies
by Queenie47
Summary: SS - my first Sarkney fic - Sark and Sydney's thoughts during the scene where Sark is in the cell from "Sucession" and the changing of Sydney and Sark's relationship. AU spin-off from there


Title: Not Exactly Enemies  
  
Author: Queenie, Nicole, sv4ever07  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters! They belong to J.J. Abrams, Bad Robot, and ABC.  
  
Rating: Shouldn't be worse than PG-13, but you never know  
  
Spoilers: Through all of season three so far  
  
Pairings: S/S  
  
Summary: Sark and Sydney's thoughts during the scene where Sark is in the cell from "Sucession" and the changing of Sydney and Sark's relationship. AU spin-off from there.  
  
Author's Note: Okay this is my first Sarkney story I've ever written, I used to be S/V, but I'm giving this a shot first, so if you like it please review and I'll continue this and maybe write more Sarkney in the future. This also takes an AU spin-off after "Reunion" episode 3.03. Thanks to Screech for beta'ing and remember please review. And duh, I forgot to thank Screech for the title too!  
  
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Chapter 1  
  
Sark could just stare at her, she was supposed to be dead, he had been told that she was dead by numerous people, and yet she still was standing right there in front of his very own cell.  
  
And all he could do was stare at her, at the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way that her hair brushed her shoulders when she talked, and the way she stood, her protective stance that she hoped would ward off men, but it only appealed to him more.  
  
Her full, luscious lips were moving and he imagined them screaming out his name in bliss as they rolled across the sheets of a bed that would be theirs.  
  
And all that went through his head was the idea of grabbing her to him and taking her hard right there on that cold, hard cement floor of the cell.  
  
The only problem was the bars separating the two of them, separating the real thing and his fantasy.  
  
But in reality she was talking, and he found himself drawn to listen to her.  
  
But he couldn't do it, her lips were intoxicating, he wanted to taste them, to tease them, but the stupid goddamn bars were still in his way.  
  
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Sydney walked down the hall, bracing herself for the confrontation between Sark and herself.  
  
As she stood in front of the cell and watched him just stare at her, a chill ran down her spine, and she found herself wetting her lips and imagining herself twining her fingers in the little hair he had left.  
  
He laughed lightly and it had her knees turning to jelly, her insides knotting and longing building up deep in her stomach.  
  
A longing she had never felt before, and it scared her that she felt so deeply for this man who was supposed to be her enemy, but she had no will power to keep him her enemy, she wanted more from him.  
  
She smiled slightly as he continued to stare, mouth agape, shock running across his lean, muscular face.  
  
And she couldn't help but feel a little flutter in her stomach as he smiled that cocky little smile back at her.  
  
"Sark," she attempted to say neutrally, she wasn't sure if it worked, but if he detected anything, he masked it well.  
  
"Bristow," he smirked, "Fancy seeing you here since you were supposed to be dead."  
  
"That's another thing I can do," she smiled as her pulse raced.  
  
"And that would be?" he questioned.  
  
"Coming back from the dead."  
  
He nodded and they just looked at each other again, their gazes meeting and holding, both of their pulses racing past normal levels.  
  
Before he knew what was happening, she had opened the cell and whipped out a pair of handcuffs.  
  
A smirk appeared across his face as he thought thoughts that shouldn't be going through his mind at the word 'handcuffs'.  
  
"You're coming with me," Sydney told him and was surprised when he didn't struggle with her.  
  
"Can I ask where we're going?" he questioned.  
  
"No you can't," she replied, "It's classified."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
And once again they found themselves staring into each other's eyes, only this time they didn't pull away, as each of them closed their eyes and slowly their heads moved closer together, until their lips were a breath away.  
  
He inched his head closer and their lips connected, resulting in a fiery storm as they tasted, touched, and felt.  
  
And when they pulled away, Sydney said one thing, "This will never happen again." And with that she led him through the gates and up the hallway.  
  
"That's what you think," he muttered.  
  
TBC????  
  
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More?   
  
Please review! 


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